Med-Teknicalities
by lamentomori
Summary: Nate promised to help MacCready save his son. He promised they'd go to Med-Tek and get the cure. The only problem is that Nate is saving his own son, so fulfilling that promise is slightly delayed. Thankfully, help comes to MacCready from an unexpected source. (Warnings: Profanity, Mild AU.)


_Warnings: Profanity, Mild AU._

* * *

Two-fifty. He should have stuck to his guns on that, but he'd settled for less. He'd settled for two hundred caps, and it'd been fine for a while. Nate makes a good employer, and somehow, he'd managed to become a friend to MacCready.

He'd made it a policy to not make friends out here. He didn't have many back home, so why would he out in the Commonwealth, but apparently that policy didn't apply to Nate. He'd become MacCready's friend, and MacCready had told him everything. Even whole reason he was out in the Commonwealth alone in this first place, and Nate had promised to help him. Then they'd gone to Sanctuary, and he'd ended up staying put. Nate had left with Piper. He'd left with the promise to return shortly and they'd head to Med-Tek together once he was finished with Piper, it'd only take a few days, a week at most.

A week came, and went. Piper came back, red faced and angry. When questioned, she'd said that Nate had somehow managed to convince someone else to follow him around. MacCready doesn't ask who, mostly because he doesn't care. He's beginning to think that sooner rather than later whoever it is will arrive at Sanctuary. It seems to be a habit of Nate's to collect people and then eventually send them up here. There's a strange, steady stream of new arrivals to Sanctuary, all with a story to tell about the man out of time. As interesting as he's sure their stories are, MacCready wishes that Nate would just get back, and help him with his problem, but he has the feeling that even when Nate does show back up, it won't be to help MacCready out. He's been here for nearly three weeks now, three weeks of tato plants, and dirt. He's no farmer, or more accurately he's not a farmer anymore. It's definitely coming back to him though, his plants are looking good, before too long he'll be picking them, planting a new crop, and wasting even more time.

There are moments when he'll find himself standing in amongst his plants and hear Duncan giggling, or Lucy calling to him from their shack. The nostalgia and hallucinations aren't as painful as they used to be. At first it hurt more than anything else ever has, but now it's faded. It's more like a dull throb rather than the crippling pain it was, and with more time it'll be even less painful. It won't ever be gone, but it will get smaller and smaller. He'll survive, he always does. He survived the trek to Big Town, he survived being mayor of Little Lamplight, he survived somehow getting there in the first place. He's a survivor.

"MacCready…" Nate fidgeting from foot to foot, with an awkward look on his face is what MacCready sees when he looks up from his plants. Nothing good is coming from this. He's clearly not here to collect MacCready to go to Med-Tek, but what he is there for a mystery.

"What's up?" MacCready forces a smile to his face. It's pretty easy to smile at Nate. He's a sweet guy. Super friendly, super kind, super easily distracted. "Nate, is that Mayor Hancock?" Of all the people to be following Nate around, Goodneighbour's mayor is pretty much the last MacCready was expecting, but he does appear to be standing behind Nate, a mildly bewildered look on his face. Hancock turns at the mention of his name.

"Do I know you?" Hancock smiles vaguely at him. MacCready shakes his head, and Hancock's vague smile doesn't shift. He's seen Hancock before, everyone in Goodneighbour knows what their mayor looks like. He's listened to a couple of Hancock's random motivational speeches, and in all honesty MacCready thinks he could've learned a few things about mayoring from the ghoul. His time as mayor would have improved if he'd been more like Hancock.

"MacCready lives in Goodneighbour." Nate offers, and Hancock nods slowly.

"MacCready… Hmm… I know your name at least." There's a sly note to Hancock's tone that Nate seems to be oblivious to. He turns to Hancock with a sincere smile.

"That's great! You can keep each other company. I promise I won't be long, but I promised Deacon I'd help him. A few days, a week at most, MacCready. Then we'll get on with your thing." The biggest problem with Nate is you believe him. Even though he's sure that Nate probably isn't going to be back in a week and he probably isn't going to help him out any time soon, in that moment, he believes him.

"And you're expecting me to…" MacCready thinks that perhaps that Nate should be a little more careful when it comes to annoying Hancock. MacCready's heard about what Hancock did to become mayor. He's not the sort Nate should be irritating, but Nate is oblivious to anything that isn't sunshine, kittens, or getting his son back really.

"Uh…Ah, ha-ha… Let's talk about this somewhere else, hmm?" Nate wanders off, and Hancock follows after him.

"Great… More fu-messing around." MacCready sighs to himself, and picks his hoe up once more. He's never going to get that cure. He needs to consider some other way to get Duncan saved, because as

useful as Nate would be, he's too busy to help.

Nate leaves, and Hancock stays. He spends the night with the people who were living in Sanctuary long before it became the place Nate sends his unneeded companions, and MacCready spends his night smoking, and sipping at a bottle of beer. He's staring into the flames of the fire he's sat by, his mind is churning feverishly. Plans forming, and being cast aside quickly. He needs to get to Med-Tek, he needs to get that cure, he needs to save his son, but he can't do it alone. He needs help, help that Nate promised but has yet to give.

"I can't believe that asshole just abandoned me here." Annoyance isn't something MacCready's heard in Hancock's voice before, but to be honest, he's heard the motivational speeches, and that's it. "I told him I was coming to help, but farming was not what I expected to be helping with."

"That makes two of us." MacCready laughs sullenly. He's weeding between tato plants, and avoiding thinking about anything at all. Keeping his mind blank is how he's been surviving this Nate imposed exile. He's in the elbow of nowhere, waiting, hoping for Nate to come back for him, and take him to get what will save his son. Nate should understand MacCready's frustration better, he's a father trying to save his son too.

"Why are you up here? You're a mercenary, not a farmer." Hancock moves to stand in front of MacCready, his arms folded over his chest, what remains of his lips pressed tightly together.

"Nate asked me to help out up here… Shouldn't you be mayoring?" MacCready smirks as Hancock winces slightly, and starts patting his pockets. He pulls out a tin of mentats, pops a couple, then offers it towards MacCready. "Nah, you got a cigarette?" Mentats aren't his friends. They tend to aggravate his memories, and make him brood even more. Hancock pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket.

"Keep 'em." He mutters. "I wanted to spend some time away from my office." Hancock pulls his hat from his head, and flaps it in front of his face a few times. The air out here is stagnant and heavy, not hot exactly, just heavy. "I felt the need to experience the wasteland for myself." Hancock smiles lazily at him. "I'm beginning to think I'd have been better off at home." Hancock sighs softly, and perches on an overturned bucket that's nearby. MacCready nods vaguely, and keeps on hoeing his row. He had wanted a cigarette, but he's forgotten his lighter in his shack, and he doesn't want to push his luck with Hancock by asking to bum one. It takes Hancock ten minutes to get bored, and wander off. He comes back quickly, with a radio that's blasting Diamond City Radio. He takes a seat on the bucket once more, and watches MacCready with a totally blank expression. He's mostly twirling a chewed pencil around his fingers, although occasionally he'll scribble something down in a notepad, but otherwise Hancock doesn't move. MacCready keeps working, half watching Hancock, half farming.

"You could help, you know." Hancock looks up at him, a slight smile on his lips.

"You want me to farm? I'm a city ghoul, dressed in priceless antiques, and you want me to play in the dirt?" He laughs at MacCready, and dusts off his vibrant red coat.

"Fine, whatever." MacCready mumbles, and wipes the sweat from his brow. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting, I guess." Hancock shrugs, and scribbles something down.

"What you writing?" He could just work in silence, but MacCready resents the idea of Hancock not doing anything to help.

"Observations." Hancock grins lazily, and snaps the notebook closed. He reaches over, and slips his hand into MacCready's pocket, fishing the packet of cigarettes out of it. "You want me to light you one?" Hancock pulls two out of the packet, and waggles one at MacCready.

"Please." MacCready sets his hoe on the ground, and takes the cigarette from Hancock. "You gonna let me sit on that bucket, or am I standing?"

"You're young, you'll manage on your feet." Hancock laughs, and levels him with a wryly amused look.

"I'm the one doing all the work." MacCready flops down onto the ground, and scowls at the ghoul. Hancock scoffs at him, and rolls his eyes, then glowers at the plants, his cigarette dangling between his lips. He waves his hand at MacCready's tatos, looking pointedly over at him.

"So, do you need me to do anything, or will these things grow without my interference?" Hancock takes a draw, and blows it out of what once was his nose. "Who the fuck is growing the shit they put in these? They can't still be left over from before the war." MacCready looks over at him. Hancock's regarding his cigarette, if he had eyebrows they'd be knit. It's a good, if random question, and clearly changing the subject. The ghoul isn't interested in farming or leaving MacCready in peace it seems.

"You bored?" MacCready laughs. Hancock snorts dismissively at him. "It could be worse. I've been here for weeks. That fu- ass- _Nate_ said he'd help me out, but all he's done is abandon me here." That seems to catch Hancock's attention. He sits up straighter, a sly smile spreading over his lips.

"Help with what?" He stretches his legs out, his ankles crossing. MacCready shakes his head. He asked Nate, and he knows that Nate will help him eventually. Although the longer Nate takes, the sicker Duncan gets, and out here he's not making money to send home to help his son. He needs Nate's help quickly.

"I… It's nothing you can help with… I asked Nate, and he'll-"

"He'll fuck around some more, and maybe eventually he'll come back and help you out, but by then it might be too late, because you've got the look of a man who's on a deadline." That sly smile remains on what's left of Hancock's lips. The deep black holes that are his eyes seem to twinkle. His eyes are like the sky at night, void and dark, but sparkling and bright.

"It'll be okay." MacCready mumbles. He's absently picking the dead leaves from a tato plant, tossing them onto the ground beside him between drags on his cigarette. Hancock makes a vague inquiring noise, but MacCready elects to ignore it. "It has to be." He's shed enough tears, but his eyes refuse to not well up. Thankfully he manages to blink them away.

"Hmm." Hancock kicks him lightly, drawing MacCready's attention to him. "What are we doing here then?" MacCready's grateful for the distraction from his thoughts, grateful for the opportunity to focus on the here and now once more.

"I guess you can help pick the dead leave off for now… The dead ones are the-"

"The crispy, brown ones? I never knew I was a tato leaf." Hancock laughs. It's woven through with self-deprecation, but MacCready isn't in the mood to indulge it. He nods vaguely, letting the radio fill the silence.

That night MacCready's back by his campfire, staring into it avoiding his thoughts. He can hear the sound of people shouting about something further up the town, and the rattle of one of the turrets Nate had set up near the entrance to the settlement. It's almost peaceful. He could get used to this. This would have been the perfect place for him and Lucy to settle down. Duncan would have been happy here, they would have been happy here. He could have grown tatos, and Lucy could have helped out with trading, or doing a little doctoring, or cooking even. They'd could have made a go of it here.

"You look lonely." MacCready looks up at the sound of Hancock's voice.

"Appearances are deceiving then." MacCready mutters. Hancock ignores him, and sits in the other lawn chair near the fire.

"This place… It's nice, but fuck me I'm bored." The ghoul sighs, and stares straight at MacCready. "Tell me what he's not doing for you." MacCready shakes his head. "Private then? Family?" MacCready winces slightly at that, and a smile spreads over Hancock's ruined lips. "Close family, huh? Wife?" Another wince. "Hmm… No, not wife. Kid?" At this MacCready springs to his feet, and starts walking to the dilapidated house where his sleeping bag is stowed. Hancock's following him, MacCready can hear the muted thud of his footsteps even over the background noise of Sanctuary.

"Leave me alone." He says it quietly, mostly because he's not sure he really wants Hancock to hear. He's heard the rumours, has seen the few people who've stepped too far out of the ideals Hancock runs Goodneighbour by. He knows what the Mayor is capable of, and is almost inclined to share what he asked Nate to help with him. There's a strong possibility that the ghoul could be of some use in the trek to Med-Tek, but he asked Nate and Nate will surely help _eventually_.

"If I leave you alone, I'll be bored." Hancock's caught up to him, and is walking along with his hands in his pockets. "There's nothing to do in this place, no reason for me to be here really… You were right when you said I have mayoring to do, but…" He sighs, and rubs the spot between where his eyebrows would have been. "I don't… I never wanted to be mayor, not really." He offers quietly, and MacCready glances over at him. "What? Now you know exactly as much about why I'm here as I know about why you're here." The ghoul grins, his irritatingly perfect teeth gleam in the dull light. MacCready swipes his tongue over his own, feeling their jagged edges and fuzzy coating. It's a petty thing to be jealous of, but annoyingly he is.

"So, you're just here to avoid your responsibilities." MacCready lets Hancock into the ruined house first. He's not certain why, but he does it anyway. Hancock wanders in and turns to face MacCready with a flourish.

"Responsibilities I didn't want in the first place." He flashes a grin at MacCready, a grin that's on the surface sweet but just underneath is nothing but danger. "Lemme keep guessing." Hancock flops down on the thin stained mattress that serves as MacCready's bed, that grin remains unwavering on his face. "We've established it's a kid, and my gut says it's a son, right?" MacCready winces once more, and Hancock's grin finally falls away. He regards MacCready thoughtfully, his chin resting in one palm. "Where are you from?"

"Capital Wastes." MacCready resents telling the ghoul even that but Hancock probably won't let him rest without needling information out of him so he might as well let a little slip. It feels like Hancock could just pluck all the information he wants from MacCready right out of the air, he's already guessed at most of why MacCready's in The Commonwealth, and this might get him stop and leave MacCready alone for a little while at least.

"A long way to travel…but I guess a cure is an important thing." The tone it's delivered in is infuriatingly mild. The sort of tone you might make a comment about the weather in. MacCready must have given his surprise at Hancock's statement away because he laughs softly. "You're easy to read, MacCready."

"Go away. I'm going to sleep." He sounds rough, like he'd smoked too much, but he doesn't care about that. He cares about feeling exposed, and being mildly suspicious that Nate might have told the ghoul his business. The why of him being here isn't Nate's to tell, and MacCready doesn't like feeling suspicious of the man he asked to help him.

"Where is it? The cure I mean." Hancock gets to his feet and approaches MacCready. He looks kind, sympathetic even, but MacCready doesn't want or need his sympathy. He needs Nate to come back and help like he said he would. "He's in no hurry to help you, you know. He's chasing leads on his own son. Yours...well, yours is a distant second to his own."

"You think I don't know that?" MacCready's fists are clenched. He wants to punch something, but the Mayor of Goodneighbour would be a poor target. In close quarters Hancock and the knife at his hip are much more than MacCready would be able to handle in this state of mind.

"I think…" Hancock trails off, and offers him a kindly smile. "It doesn't much matter what I think, does it?" He slips out one of the gaping holes in the wall, leaving MacCready feeling thwarted. On the mattress is the lighter he'd used earlier in the day, looking halfway between a peace offering and a straight up offer of help.

The dead leaves are all gone and half of his rows have been watered when MacCready arrives at his plants the next morning. Hancock's standing beside a water filled bucket, a cigarette between his lips, reading the back of the cigarette packet.

"They must be reusing the packets." He tosses the packet to MacCready by way of greeting and starts watering the next row. MacCready slides a cigarette from the packet and lights it.

"Does it matter? We probably shouldn't be smoking anyway. The old books say smoking's bad for you." MacCready takes a seat on the overturned bucket Hancock had been perched on yesterday and watches the ghoul. His red coat is laying carefully folded nearby, and his shirt sleeves are rolled up, leaving the sinewy, ruined skin and muscle of his arms exposed. Ghoulification out in The Commonwealth looks so different to the way it did back home. The ghouls MacCready remembers from The Capital Wastes looked so much more rotten than Hancock does. He looks more like jerky than the rotting flesh of the Capital Wastes ghouls.

"Who taught you how to read?" The question itself is laughed, but there's something behind it that makes MacCready uncomfortable. A keen awareness that the answer is worth more than such an innocuous question should be. Thankfully, it doesn't seem like Hancock had been expecting an answer. He seems focussed on his work, making his way carefully down the row of tatos.

"Why'd you follow Nate?" MacCready watches Hancock's shoulders tense under his thin shirt. The ghoul laughs, a low, bitter sound that makes the hairs on MacCready's arms stand on end.

"The real answer or the one you expect?" Hancock doesn't turn around. He seems to be studiously keeping his back to MacCready, as though determined to keep his secrets and motivations to himself.

"Whichever." A mild response, giving Hancock an easy way out that he'd not offered MacCready the night before.

"I was bored." If that was the real answer or not MacCready isn't sure. It's an answer, but what it's worth is debatable though. "Where's the cure?"

"He's coming back." MacCready snarls, gets to his feet, and snatches up his hoe from where he'd left it yesterday. He has to believe that Nate is coming back or he'll go mad. He wouldn't be able to handle knowing he'd wasted so much time waiting for something that wasn't ever going to happen.

"To tag one of us in and to further his own goals." MacCready can feel the weight of Hancock's gaze on him. "Whether he means for it or not, we're all pawns for him to use as he sees fit. He doesn't care about us, not really."

"Says the man who abandoned an entire town because he's bored." The hoe is once more on the ground and MacCready's fists are again balled. Hancock's eyes are narrowed and that dangerous grin is back on his lips.

"You don't know if that's the real answer or not." Hancock's hand drifts closer to the hilt of his knife, and hovers over it, his fingers flexing slightly.

"Does it even matter?" MacCready wishes he had his gun to hand, but it's safely back in his dilapidated house. Sanctuary is infuriatingly safe, which means his gun usually stays home. The dangerous grin melts into something kinder, and Hancock scoops another can full of water up from the bucket.

"I suppose not." He sighs dramatically and tosses the water at the plant. "Somewhere old, I'm guessing. There's not too many places making new tech, especially not out here. So, it'll have to be something from before."

"Drop it." MacCready nudges Hancock out of the way, and takes over watering his plants. "Nate'll help me. He promised."

"He promises a lot of people a lot of things, and yet he only seems to be dealing with finding his boy." There's an edge to Hancock's voice, an edge as dangerous as his grin. It makes MacCready wonder once more why Hancock followed Nate in the first place.

"What's he promised you?" Hancock laughs at MacCready's question.

"I've learned to not rely on nice people. Assholes get things done, nice people make promises." A smile spreads over Hancock's ruined lips, his perfectly straight, gleamingly white teeth bared. "There's a very good reason I'm an asshole." He stubs his cigarette out, and stretches his arms over his head. "It's old tech, and it's not gonna be from Vault-Tec because you'd probably have just gotten that out in the Capital Wastes." MacCready tries hard to ignore the ghoul, but Hancock's gaze is even heavier than the air in Sanctuary. "Not Rob-Co, and not anything new because this is about as far from the Lucky Thirty-Eight as you can get. So, that-"

"Leave it. For now, just leave it." MacCready interrupts before Hancock can finish the sentence. He knows that Hancock knows where he needs to be, but he can't handle the ghoul saying it, not just yet at least. "Please." The only response MacCready gets is the sound of Hancock lighting another cigarette.

That night MacCready lies awake, as he does most nights, thinking through what he should have done that day. If he'd been better, smarter, faster, _something_ then Lucy would be alive, and Duncan wouldn't be sick, and they'd still be together. It's a futile spiral of thoughts that he's dragged down every night. No matter what he tries, from alcohol to chems, nothing keeps the wolves of hindsight from howling at him.

"Med-Tek." Hancock sounds entirely too close, and MacCready is on his feet, and pointing his rifle before who spoke really dawns on him. The ghoul is standing, leaning against a crumbling wall, his arms folded over his chest, the smouldering end of the cigarette in his mouth the only light in the ruin.

"What?" MacCready's heart is pounding. The panic he'd been feeling is clearing, leaving in its place annoyance that Hancock had sneaked up on him so easily.

"Where Nate is supposed to take you to." MacCready winces. His eyes clamp closed, and he silently wishes Hancock doesn't say anything more. "It's Med-Tek, isn't it?" Hancock takes a single step closer, and offers his packet of cigarettes to MacCready. "Am I wrong? Because I don't think there's anywhere else it could be…" He declines, and stares at the ghoul. Hancock shrugs slightly, and tucks the packet back in his pocket. "It's pretty far from here, but not too far from home for me. Dangerous though. Very dangerous." That danger-tinged grin is back on what's left of Hancock's lips.

"I asked Nate." His voice comes out as a pitiful croak, so, MacCready clears his throat. "I asked Nate." Stronger this time, but it has no impact on Hancock. He merely smiles, what would have been his eyebrows raise, and he shakes his head slightly.

"I'm offering." Saying important things like they were nothing is an annoying habit, and it seems to be one that Hancock is unable to even consider breaking. MacCready shakes his head, setting his gun back down.

"I asked Nate." MacCready repeats once more, and settles himself back down on bed. Hancock laughs, a bitter, grating sound.

"He's…" Hancock sighs, a lazy grin spreading over his lips. He leans against a wall, and levels MacCready with an unreadable look. "He's wandering around with Valentine from Diamond City. I don't know exactly what they're doing, but I know what he's not doing."

"I…I asked him." MacCready flops back down into his bed. His gaze is focussed on the ceiling. Hancock appears in MacCready's line of sight. "I'll…I'll think about your offer, Hancock." The ghoul nods, a tight smile on his lips.

"That's all I'm asking, MacCready." The sound of his footsteps are quickly swallowed up in the silence of Sanctuary.

Mornings in Sanctuary are pleasant. It's quiet, the sunrise is beautiful, the air almost smells clean. Nate's robot butler is hovering around near the entrance gates that morning. The shining Mr Handy seems excited, it's arms flailing cheerfully.

"Hmm…Maybe I was wrong." Hancock's voice makes MacCready jump. The ghoul offers MacCready a lit cigarette. "There's Nate." Hancock juts his chin in the direction of the entrance gate. The sole survivor looks weighted down, walking with purpose. Just behind him is a figure MacCready doesn't recognise. "And Valentine. Morning." Nate nods awkwardly to Hancock, and turns to look at MacCready.

"I'm not stopping long." Nate starts, and scrubs a hand over his face. "I'm…We need to talk." He's resting a hand on Hancock's shoulder. MacCready waits for some kind of acknowledgement. He gets none.

"My offer is still very much open." Around three hours later, Hancock stalks straight past MacCready hissing that comment almost under his breath. Nate approaches MacCready shortly after Hancock passed him.

"I'm following a really good lead on Shaun." Nate smiles hopefully, and shoves a small bag of caps into MacCready's hand. "Send it home, okay? As soon as I can I'll help you and…" Nate trails off, and MacCready nods, taking the caps.

"His name's Duncan, Nate." MacCready casts his gaze around, looking for Hancock, but not seeing the familiar bright red jacket anywhere. "What did you offer to help Hancock with?"

"Nothing…He offered to help me." Nate looks confused, but MacCready doesn't care about Nate's confusion, not in the face of his own. MacCready turns back to his plants. Nate stays hovering behind him nervously for a few seconds, but seems to take the hint that he's been dismissed and leaves. He'd been confused by Hancock before, but now it's even worse. There's more to the Mayor's reasons for being out in the Commonwealth than altruism. If there's one thing MacCready's certain of its that, but it really feels like the only thing he knows for sure about Goodneighbour's mayor.

"I see you're still here." Hancock takes a seat at MacCready's fire that night. He sounds smug, but he looks annoyed.

"Did he tell you what I needed help with?" It's the only logical solution MacCready could come up with all day. He's been thinking about it, and concluded that Nate must have realised that he wouldn't have time to help MacCready, so he asked Hancock to help him instead.

"Who? Nate?" Hancock barks a loud laugh. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm offering my help out of the goodness of my heart." The ghoul smiles at him lazily. "Why do you ask?"

"I asked him why you followed him." That seems to peak Hancock's interest. The ghoul stares at MacCready, his dark eyes appearing like the abyss staring into MacCready's soul.

"Whatever did he say?" Hancock pulls cigarette from his packet, and lights it on the fire between them.

"That you offered to help him." MacCready doesn't bother with games on this. He's not one for mental manipulation, and even if he was he has the distinct feeling Hancock is better at playing mind-games than most.

"Nice to see he didn't lie." Hancock takes a long drag of his cigarette. He tosses the packet to MacCready. "Anything else?"

"Why offer to help me?" It's a question that was blurted out without MacCready's permission. The ghoul doesn't look surprised, but his gaze does shift from MacCready to the fire.

"You need help." He sighs, and it looks like Hancock isn't happy with that answer. "I know why you followed Nate, so I suppose it's only fair that you know why I followed him too." Hancock sighs, tosses his cigarette, and takes his hat from his head. "My brother is, was, maybe at least I don't know, mayor of Diamond City." He turns the hat around in his hands, his eyes still on the fire. "Nate's going to attract attention. I don't know much, but I know that. He's…He's currently chasing after a way into The Institute."

"What?" A jolt of uncomfortable concern rushes through MacCready at that. He might be feeling let down by Nate right now, but he's still a friend. Messing with The Institute is a bad idea, a terrible idea, the single worst idea Nate could have.

"He thinks his son is in there, and maybe he is, but what I want to know definitely is." Hancock replaces his hat on his head and meets MacCready's eyes over the fire once more. "My brother and I never got on. We'd be at each other's throats all the time, but I never once thought he'd condemn others to death for his own gain." The danger-tinged grin blossoms on Hancock's face. "There's a rumour going around that he's been replaced by a synth. If he has, I want to know when and if he's dead." Hancock settles back in his deck chair, and almost looks like he's challenging MacCready to comment.

"So, you followed Nate on a hunch that eventually he'd get you a way to find out what happened to your brother? Seems like a long shot." Hancock laughs at his comment, and MacCready shakes his head slightly. It seems almost ridiculous enough to be true. Hancock really does seem the sort to have taken a move as tenuously bold as this one.

"And I never wanted to be mayor, but my brother was a big part of why I am." Hancock slips a mentat into his mouth, and turns his gaze to the stars. "Being mayor is a lot of trouble. I don't know how much you know about Goodneighbour, but we're involved in a lot of stuff I don't even know all the details for." MacCready opens his mouth to question, but Hancock shakes his head at him. "Secret stuff. Life and death stuff. The kind of stuff that comes with the threat of securitrons."

"How the fuck can that asshole out in the Mojave have ties all the way here?" MacCready mutters, and once more Hancock just laughs.

"New Vegas and any connections Goodneighbour has to it isn't something I'm willing to discuss in the open, but it's safe to say that if Nate does what I expect him to then we'll be getting a visit from a representative of the mayor of the Mojave. A visit I'd rather see and know about first hand. A man from the literal past is a big deal. If I want people safe I need to be involved." Hancock rubs a hand over his face, and shakes his head. "And now you see why I never wanted to be mayor. Idealism is much more fun when it's just ideas and not practice."

"I'll think about it." MacCready decides that letting the matter of Hancock's problems drop is for the best. He's almost happy to tell the ghoul he'll think about letting him help MacCready find Duncan's cure. Nate's going to be busy. If what Hancock says is true, Nate's also playing with fire. No one messes with The Institute and lives to tell the tale. A dead man can't help MacCready, but a living ghoul definitely could.

"Okay." It's been three days since Nate gave MacCready a bag of caps. Two hundred caps in total. He's not sure if Nate had meant for it to be symbolic, but it is. MacCready had been hired for two hundred, and it feels like Nate had tried to buy his way out of helping MacCready for the same amount. Hancock looks over at him, and nods.

"We'll head out at dawn then. Get some rest." The ghoul pops a mentat, and shakes the tin at Macready. He declines, but he always does and it seems like Hancock had expected that because the tin is back in his pocket before MacCready's turned away, leaving Hancock to his peace and his fire.

MacCready sleeps like the dead that night. The very moment his head hits the pillow he falls asleep. For a change, he doesn't have horrible nightmare about Lucy slipping from his grasp, instead he dreams of the day the Lone Wander came stmblimg into Light Lamplight' tall, whip-thin, and looking like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. He dreams of cutting a deal for fungus and not wanting to know what that strange meat was.

"You're heading out, sirs?" Nate's robot butler is hovering near the entrance as MacCready and Hancock set out that morning. Hancock turns to the robot, talking to it, seemingly unconcerned that MacCready has done nothing more than tug his hat lower, and keep walking forward determinedly. It's a long trek from Sanctuary to Med-Tek, and he doesn't want to waste time with Mr Handys.

"Catch." Hancock jogs up to MacCready's side, and tosses him a bottle of water. "Codsworth was feeling generous, I guess." MacCready stashes it in his pack. "So, you know which way we need to go?"

"This way. I think at least." MacCready laughs, and pulls from his pack a compass and map.

"It's in this exact moment I understand why you wanted Nate to help with this." Hancock smiles over at him, falling into step with MacCready. "I'm guessing it'll take a while to get to where we're headed…A day or so, right?"

"If we're quick less than that." MacCready can't really remember how long it took to get out to Sanctuary when he was with Nate, but a day feels like it's too long for the walk they need to make.

"Well, I guess we'll try and be quick." Hancock pulls his tin of mentats from his pocket, pops two, and slips it back into his coat, not even bothering to offer MacCready some. "I'll keep my eyes peeled for any Raiders, you keep a watch out for anything else."

"I'm hoping we're not going to run into anything." MacCready winces at the sharply laughed _I'm a realist_ that Hancock gives in response.

They run into a single group of Raiders. Just one, and MacCready is relieved to find that Hancock is as handy with a gun as he is with a knife. They dispatch the Raiders with relative ease, and make fairly good time, getting to just outside Med-Tek in less time than either of them had anticipated. After a short debate, they agree to enter in the morning, rather than when they're tired from the trek. It wasn't so much a debate as Hancock telling him that they'd end up being killed if they wandered into the ruins half-knackered. The place is probably crawling with feral ghouls, or super mutants, or both, so, MacCready conceded to Hancock's suggest of making a camp and getting some rest.

"You wanna take first watch, or will I?" Hancock's voice jars MacCready from cleaning his rifle, the small fire between them is almost burned down, and he thinks that it'd be best for them both if over the night they let it die completely. They don't want to draw more attention to themselves than they have to.

"I…I dunno." MacCready had been about to offer to take it, and not wake Hancock up for a watch, because he's convinced that he'll not be able to sleep. He's so close to getting the cure that he can taste it, so close that he can hear Duncan laughing and calling him daddy in his mind.

"Once you're done, go to sleep." Hancock smiles at him, even in the dim light his brilliantly white teeth gleam. Once more MacCready swipes his tongue over his own, feeling the layer of fuzz that covers their jagged edges. It really is a stupid thing to be jealous of, but he is horribly jealous of Hancock's teeth.

"How did you end up as a ghoul? You can't have been one long if you've got family in Diamond City." It's clearly not a question that Hancock had expected, and MacCready feels a burst of pride inside himself at throwing the ghoul off his game.

"It's neither a long, nor interesting story. I tried a drug. It made me a ghoul. The end." Hancock told the very short tale whilst staring into MacCready. Being stared at by Hancock really does feel like the abyss is staring back at MacCready more than he likes. He's not entirely comfortable with the dark, unwavering gaze of the ghoul.

"That was a shi- _rubbish_ story." MacCready finishes cleaning his rifle, and carefully sets it down.

"Why don't you swear?" MacCready half expects Hancock to pluck the reason out of the air like he did with finding out his reason for travelling with Nate, but instead he seems inclined to let MacCready tell him.

"I used to. I used to a lot. I thought it made me more like a mungo." Hancock looks at him oddly, but MacCready forges on with his explanation, not willing to be side-tracked with tales of Little Lamplight. "Lucy hated it, said it made me sound like a raider, and then when Duncan was born, I was worried his first word would be something not for polite society. So, I quit."

"Old habits die hard though." Hancock smiles at him. MacCready laughs in response. He's been good about not swearing. He'd messed up once, but he thinks Lucy would forgive him for that if she could. "Old habits sink their claws in deep, believe me I know." Hancock's not looking at him anymore, but MacCready would rather he was. Misery isn't a good look for Hancock, and it's the only word for how he looks in that moment. "Even when we were kids I fought with my brother. He'd say shit, and I'd say sugar. It didn't matter what it was over, we'd fight." Hancock sighs, and rubs his eyes. "I don't want him to be dead. If he's a synth, then he is. But if he's a synth, then it wasn't my brother than forced so many innocent ghouls to their deaths."

"Ferals killed my wife." MacCready isn't sure why he said that, it's not the response that Hancock deserved, but it's the one he got. Hancock looks over at MacCready, his head tilted to one side. "I…Sometimes I can't forget that feral ghouls come from regular ghouls."

"Regular ghouls come from regular people." Hancock's watching him carefully, his teeth slightly bared by the danger-tinged grin. "Feral ghouls might not be ghouls anymore, but they're a lot like people. You only need to look at the Raiders to know that." MacCready nods vaguely. He doesn't want to think too closely about this. "Is this cure a guarantee?"

"Huh?" Hancock's change of subject was brutal, and throws MacCready for a loop. His brain struggles for a moment to catch up.

"The cure we're here for, is it guaranteed to work? I don't want to owe Six a favour, but if this cure fails going to Big MT might be an option." Hancock's once more staring into the flames.

"The old records say it's a cure-all." MacCready hasn't ever considered what he'd do if this medicine didn't save Duncan. He doesn't think he'd be able to get his son out to the Mojave, but he'd be willing try, especially if there was a chance that he could get help out there.

"Well, let's hope they were right. Six might be benevolent to his people, but he's not above massacres or fucking people around…I guess we'll just have to hope that this really is a cure all." Hancock's still staring into the flames.

"How do you know Courier Six?" He asks the question softly, not really expecting Hancock to answer.

"The Railroad. Most of the synths they save come through Goodneighbour, and the safest place for them is out in Big MT. It's the only place that's got the technology to really fend off The Institute." Hancock shakes his head, and fishes his mentats out of his pocket. "You heard none of this from me, alright? If anyone asks you don't know anything."

"Cross my heart." MacCready marks an x over his heart, and offers Hancock a reassuring smile. "Not knowing all this though, it kinda makes me understand why you'd wanna take a break for a little while." Hancock looks over at him, and MacCready can feel a bright smile stretching his lips. "I'd want a break from having so much resting on me too." A vague but grateful smile appears on Hancock's face for a moment, and then he pulls a blanket from his pack.

"Go to sleep. I'll wake you up in a few hours." MacCready takes the blanket, and Hancock's advice.

In the morning, MacCready feels a lot like he did when he first left Little Lamplight for Big Town. He'd been scared, but excited. It's a stupid feeling to have, but he can't help it. Before too long, he's going to be holding what could be the cure to Duncan's illness in his hands. Before too long Duncan could be well again. What happens after that is a mystery. The Capital Wastes aren't what they once were. The Brotherhood are firmly in control, so there's much less call for a gun for hire, and The Commonwealth is too dangerous for Duncan. MacCready supposes he could be a farmer back home. There's plenty of land not being farmed, and there's significantly less danger in The Capital Wastes, but the idea doesn't appeal. The safety of the Brotherhood comes with the price of being under their thumb. They take taxes, they demand discounts, they persecute anyone that doesn't really fit. They've even chased the Lone Wanderer off. The facts of the Lone Wanderer, and the freedom he'd brought, are fading into memory, with legends springing up in their place. MacCready supposes he could write down his encounter with The Lone Wanderer and make a few caps selling the story of how he rescued Sammy, Squirrel, and Penny, although he supposes it's already been done by one of the others from Little Lamplight. It's a problem for another time. Now, his problem is getting that cure, and hoping it's the right cure.

"Anything we're expecting?" Hancock steps into the Med-Tek building. His gun is dangling from his fingers loosely. MacCready shrugs, and repositions his own weapon. A sharp, low growl sounds from the corner of the dimly lit room. "Like I thought, ghouls." Hancock mutters, aiming his gun. MacCready dispatches the feral ghoul. The sound, and light, of his rifle rouses several other ghouls, their hissing growls fill the air. "I hate killing my people." Hancock laughs, dispatching one of the ferals that are beginning to shuffle their way.

"They're not your people, Hancock. Those are in Goodneighbour." MacCready mutters it under his breath, half hoping Hancock hears him, and half hoping that the sound of gunshots will swallow his snide comment up. Feral ghouls might be desiccated husks, but they still fall hard. The last of them makes a hollow thud as it falls to the ground dead. Hancock starts looting through what's left of the ghouls, and tosses MacCready a few rounds of ammo from one's tattered pants' pocket.

"Huh. Grape flavour." The last of the ghouls that Hancock checks for loot yields a tin of flavoured mentats that brings a triumphant grin to his face. Hancock shakes the tin at MacCready but doesn't seem surprised when his offer is turned down. "You never take these, how come?"

"Does it matter?" MacCready doesn't look up from reloading his rifle, mentally trying to remember the little of the layout of the building he knows. Besides his combat prowess, Nate would have had his pip-boy, which would have proven more than useful in getting around the ruined Med-Tek building.

"Not really, I guess. Just making conversation." Hancock grins at him, and crunches a couple of mentats between his teeth. "We know where we're going?"

"No clue… I've this password, and not much else to be honest." MacCready shoulders his rifle, and pointlessly dusts down his coat. Hancock shakes his head at him, that danger-tinged grin on his face.  
"Well, I guess we look for something to stick that password in then." Hancock starts down a corridor, his pistol drawn.

It takes them a long time, a lot longer than it would with Nate, but eventually they find where to use the code. MacCready's fingers are shaking slightly as he inputs the right digits. Hancock seems fidgety, twitchy almost. At the low beep, he pushes off the wall, his gaze casting around frantically almost.

"Where are they?" His pistol is in one hand, the other is gripping the hilt of his still sheathed knife.

"Who?" A wave of anxiety comes over MacCready. Hancock's paranoia rubbing off on him.

"I don't know!" The ghoul snaps, still looking horribly ready for a fight. "The last time I went on some important mission, a bunch of bad shit showed up at the last minute. I'm expecting like twenty super mutants or a giant radroach, something, you know?"

"I think that shit just happens to Nate to be honest." MacCready stashes the cure into an inner pocket, hoping to keep it safe. He lightly slaps Hancock on the back as he makes his way past the still suspicious looking mayor. "C'mon, let's get outta here." Hancock nods, but doesn't stash his gun.

"We're heading home?" Hancock asks once they're outside. "Goodneighbour, I mean. Sanctuary doesn't have someone who can get this out the Capital Wastes, but my people are resourceful." A look of pride flashes over Hancock's face, even has his attention still seems mostly on glancing from side to side, keeping an eye out for danger, and the horde of super mutants he's still obviously expecting.

"Yeah. Daisy said she'd help me out." MacCready starts off in the direction of Goodneighbour.

"She's a _very_ resourceful member of the community." Hancock chuckles softly. "You think we can make it back without running into anything untoward?"

"I hope so." MacCready mutters, just as the sound of rumbling fills the air. He turns his gaze upwards, and Hancock walks into his back.

"What the fuck is that thing?" His voice is low, but he's not moved from where he'd collided with MacCready. It's not a horde of super mutants, but MacCready thinks it might be worse.

"I don't…" He trails off, uncertain what it is that's above them, but he's grimly certain it's related to Nate somehow. Most things that happen these days are. "Let's just get this to Daisy, and worry about whatever that is later." Once he's back in Goodneighbour there'll be plenty of time to consider what to do next. He owes Nate nothing, not anymore at least. He helped with Winlock and Barnes, but MacCready repaid that debt by trailing after Nate, and growing so many tatos. He's got a new debt now though, and MacCready has the distinct feeling that repaying Mayor Hancock might be more difficult.

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